That's all that matters
by Lord Cynic
Summary: A sheep fluffy MarcheRitz fanfic. One shot


!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Lord Cynic: "My first FFTA fanfic, first Marche/Ritz sheep fanfic (fluff, in other words... well, sorta fluff).  
  
=  
  
Lord Cynic: "I don't own Final Fantasy. I own a copy of FFTA, though. Started it over yesterday..."  
  
=  
  
FINAL FANTASY TACTICS ADVANCE  
  
"That's All That Matters"  
  
The end of yet another school day, and another snowball fight victory for Marche, Ritz and Mewt.  
  
"Did you see Lyle's face when a snowball fell down his pants?" Mewt asked his friends, shaking with laughter. Marche and Ritz chuckled alongside him, but as they entered town the sombre expressions on the two teenager's faces returned.  
  
  
  
Children on the streets played without a care in the world. As Marche, Ritz and Mewt passed, the children smiled and waved, and the teenagers smiled back. However, while Mewt's smile was true, Marche and Ritz were using theirs as a cover to disguise their thoughts.  
  
"Right," Mewt said, as they came to his street. "I'll see you guys tomorrow, okay?" The other two nodded and Mewt walked back to his house. This left Marche and Ritz to walk back to Marche's house alone.  
  
"Here we are, Ritz."  
  
The two had finally arrived at Marche's house. However, before Marche opened the door to go in, Ritz called to him. "Wait, Marche!"  
  
Marche turned around. "Yeah?"  
  
Ritz looked at her blonde-haired friend for a second. She was lucky there wasn't a lot of light; otherwise he would've seen that she was blushing. "Oh, nothing. Good night."  
  
Marche stared at her crimson-haired friend for a long time, making Ritz more embarrassed. Eventually he said, "Good night," then opened the door and went into his house. Ritz stared at the door for a few seconds, then walked away onto the street.  
  
"Good night, Marche."  
  
"Night, Doned."  
  
However, Marche didn't go to sleep. He remained sitting up in bed, thinking about the way Ritz had called him back, apparently for no reason at all. In the end, he quietly got out of bed and left the house, walking onto the street.  
  
'I should've told him. I shouldn't have left him in silence.'  
  
Ritz paced up and down the sidewalk, pondering and rueing her lost opportunity. Her crimson hair shone in the light illuminating from the flickering streetlamps.  
  
'He probably thinks I'm a fool,' she thought bitterly to herself. She didn't notice Marche approaching her from behind.  
  
"It's too cold to be out on the street alone," he said gently, making Ritz jump in shock.  
  
"What're you doing here?" she asked, surprised.  
  
"I might be asking you the same question," Marche said gently still, stepping into the lamplight.  
  
"I... I just..." Ritz avoided looking at Marche. "Why do you want to know?"  
  
"I'm worried, that's all," Marche said softly, tilting his head to try and see face-to-face with his crimson-haired friend. Eventually, Ritz's green eyes lifted and they met March's tranquil blue ones. In the light, he could see a red tinge in her cheeks.  
  
"What do you think of my hair?" she asked him suddenly. Marche was taken back by such a personal question.  
  
"I think it's pretty," Marche said honestly. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Um..." Ritz hesitated, surprised by Marche's quick and confident response. "The kids at school don't think so."  
  
"I thought it didn't matter what anyone else thought."  
  
"Well..." Ritz hesitated again. "Everytime I hear someone talking about my hair, it reminds me of our Final Fantasy adventure."  
  
Marche let her speak without comment.  
  
"Back there, my red hair was natural. No dyes or anything. I felt normal for a change. But now, everywhere I go people are talking about me behind my back, and it makes me regret coming back."  
  
"You know," Marche said slowly, "not everyone hates your hair."  
  
"I... I know," Ritz said quietly. 'It's just that -"  
  
But she didn't get to finish her sentence, because Marche kissed her softly on the lips. When they released, Ritz's face was as vividly red as her hair.  
  
"Marche, I -" she uttered, but Marche placed a finger on her lips.  
  
"It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks," he said warmly. "I think your hair, and you, are beautiful, and I hope that's all that does matter."  
  
"I..." Ritz nodded. "You're right. That's all that matters."  
  
Marche stroked her hair tenderly, and they kissed again. As the morning dawned, one thing still remained in their thoughts: 'We love each other, and that's all that matters."  
  
=  
  
Sheep: "Baaaaaa!"  
  
Cynic: "Oh, shush up. This is my first fluff one-shot, gimme a break."  
  
Everyone: "BAAAAAAAA!"  
  
Cynic: "Shush!" 


End file.
